Basking
by jenahid
Summary: Ron and Hermione enjoy their new flat


Originally written for RomioneSmut's FuckFest2015 on Tumblr

"Yes, thanks, Molly, we'll just clean up a bit and then head over for dinner." Hermione closed the Floo, craving silence more than anything right now. Her new flat – no, their new flat, hers and Ron's – was reasonably well sorted after just six hours. Having a large family paid off sometimes. Ron's brothers (which included Harry, as far as any Weasley was concerned) did the lion's share of the heavy lifting, Molly unpacked, organized, and surreptitiously stocked the kitchen, their fathers connected Muggle devices the best they could, and Hermione's mother unpacked pictures, mirrors, and toiletries. Hermione and Ron were ready to have their things untouched and their place to themselves, if just for a bit. Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool, smooth wood of the mantel.

Silence. Too silent… there was another human here, but Hermione couldn't hear him. Had he been scooted out with his brothers, lost in the shuffle of redheads? Surely not. She padded down the short hallway to the bedroom.

Laid out on the bed with his arms spread across the width of the bed, long legs folded over the edge, feet on the floor, was Ron, basking in the white-noise breeze of a window air conditioner unit. Hermione's father had insisted on installing it, and Ron's dad was completely in favor, volunteering to help install it. She had insisted that cooling charms were sufficient, if even necessary – it hardly reached Mediterranean temperatures in London. A shared glance with her mother convinced Hermione that this was her father's way of being helpful and approving of a situation that he couldn't contribute much to and that she should relent. She supposed it would help block out city sounds for Ron, accustomed to country living and the relative quiet of school dorms. It appeared to be an instant favorite after moving furniture and unpacking in a small space with many bodies moving in symphony. His long iridescent lashes brushed his cheeks, which bore hardly any of the flush of exertion they'd worn most of the day. A white t-shirt billowed slightly across his stomach, revealing a triangle of dark auburn hair and a scattering of freckles. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was asleep. He probably also just wanted a little quiet and serenity. He'd shared space with no fewer than five people his whole life and probably wanted to adjust mentally to the new situation. Fair enough. She turned to her dresser to assemble fresh clothes for after a shower. No, she thought, this is my - our - place, and I don't have to scurry with an armful of clothes. There's no one else here. I'll drop my things in the hamper right here, shower at leisure, and select my clothes here afterwards. No big deal. Ron's seen me naked enough times that it probably isn't that exciting any more, if he even opens his eyes.

Nodding to herself in the mirror - her reflection raised an eyebrow back at her - she shimmied her shorts and knickers down her legs and peeled her sweaty tshirt off, collecting everything and tossing it into the hamper. She unclasped her bra and hung it on the hook on back of the door. No doubt there'd be another sweaty day of unpacking tomorrow, and it would be worn again. She felt quite sensible and grown up, but also a bit sensual for walking about in the nude, which she had never had occasion to do before. Well, about to walk about. To the shower. Right. Off we go, then. She turned primly on her heel.

Ron was sitting stock straight on the edge of the bed. His face was alert, his eyes wide as though he were following a Seeker across the pitch. His hands rested just above his knees. His breathing was deep but unlabored through parted lips. Hermione thought he looked a bit gobsmacked, although entirely present and attentive. She took her lecturing stance with her hands on her hips and her feet hip width apart, but then remembered she was starkers. She cross her arms across her chest and closed her stance slightly.

"Ron, you've seen me naked before. We've had sex dozens of times. Maybe a hundred. This," she gestured vaguely at her person, "is going to be a daily occurrence now. Surely my body isn't that exciting anymore."

She didn't think he was that close, but there she was, pulled against his body by his long arms, his forehead against her collarbone. Large, long fingered hands stroked her sides. He inhaled deeply.

"Your body has always been exciting, and always will be. It was maddening when it was a vague mystery. It was thrilling when it was brand new to me. It was fascinating the twentieth time I got to see it, and I reckon it'll be provocative the twenty thousandth. This time, it's... intoxicating. That you just casually got naked, no hesitation, it makes it real. We're together, living together, like a real couple. There's no immediate threat. We're just... normal. And in love. This is what I've wanted since I was fourteen, being with you comfortably. You're comfortable baring your body and your soul with me, and that's almost overwhelming. I hadn't considered that you would just walk around naked, but I love it and encourage it."

With that, Ron pulled Hermione more firmly to himself. He rubbed his face between her breasts, inhaling again. Tears had gathered in Hermione's eyes during his frank soliloquy, but they dissipated with a barked laugh as he sighed and laid his head over her heart while patting her bum. He looked up, smiling. Hermione only had time to register the sparkle in his eye before she was swirled around and laid out on the bed. She catalogued how Ron gently kissed his way up her body: midway up the outside of her right thigh, front of left thigh, outside of left hip, between right hip and navel, spot below a tiny scar on the left side of stomach, undercurve of right breast, just over heart, left shoulder on the front, right side of neck, underside of chin, left jawline, left earlobe, nose, right eyebrow, middle of forehead, left temple... his nose rubbed gently against hers before his lips landed on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, body humming as his hands revisited all the places his lips had enjoyed. When had he taken off his shirt? He could move with amazing speed. Not right now, though. This kiss was honest and simple. No nibbles, no fancy tongue work, just lips moving in silent declaration of passion. It was Hermione's favorite of all their kisses so far.

She shifted her knees from their pinned position to press lightly into the outside of Ron's thighs. This seemed to startle him. He withdrew from kissing, but said nothing, only looking at Hermione for a long moment before pulling the left side of his mouth into half a grin. He kissed along her neck, resting his weight on one elbow as he undid his belt and shuffled out of his shorts and boxers. His physical coordination never failed to excite her. He'd demonstrated a thrilling ability to multi-task in the bedroom before. Somehow, Hermione wasn't thinking ahead to how they'd position themselves or what particular acts this session would include. It caught her attention only briefly that she was so invested in the moment before she decided to embrace the sensation and follow it. Ron had returned to kissing her, now introducing a bit of tongue, swirling and stroking around her tongue. She brought her knees up nearer to his hips and flattened her lower back against the mattress a bit. With a small shift of weight onto his elbows, Ron gently pressed against her moist entrance. Accustomed to assuring him that it was alright to proceed, Hermione tilted her head back slightly to look into his eyes.

The gaze of adoration on Ron's face was breathtaking. He stroked her hair away from her face, seeming to want to speak, but he didn't. She blinked a few times, then nodded almost imperceptibly as a smile lit her face. She received him joyfully, gently pressing the heel of one foot into his bum. His face, always expressive, contorted through an intense array of emotions, laid bare for her. He began thrusting gently, as he usually did. Instead of speeding up, though, he continued his slow, smooth rhythm, exploring her body with his hands and gracing every surface he could with kisses. Hermione kissed as many freckles as she was able, blessing with her hands those she couldn't kiss. When Ron started to shift his weight a bit, she expected him to grasp her hips for a final crescendo. Instead, he slid one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulders so that he could keep his weight on his elbows and his face near hers as they glided together. His eyes professed the truth of his earlier words and Hermione realized that this was what was meant by the "with my body, I thee worship" vow of antiquated weddings. She held tighter as her tears returned, silently falling over her temples, where Ron gently wiped them away with his long nose.

Her orgasm came quietly and without the usual buildup. The startled intake of breath caused Ron to crease his brow in concern, but she nodded and gave him a small smile and loosened her hold on him slightly. He returned the grin and held her gaze as he pumped once, twice, thrice more before stilling. Panting, they carefully rolled Ron onto his back. Hermione tucked into his shoulder. She lolled her head up to smile at her beloved, who was pulling a sheet over them. She dreamily reached for her wand to send a Patronus to make their excuses to the Weasleys for dinner. Other obligations could wait. Forever had just arrived, and Ron and Hermione were going to enjoy its glow. 


End file.
